


Peter's Father

by RebaK1tten



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/M, Infidelity, Peter's backstory, spousal abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-12
Updated: 2017-07-12
Packaged: 2018-12-01 03:49:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11478006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RebaK1tten/pseuds/RebaK1tten
Summary: What if Talia and Peter had different fathers?And Peter’s father was something supernatural, but maybe not exactly a werewolf?





	Peter's Father

 

What if Talia and Peter had different fathers?

And Peter’s father was something supernatural, but maybe not exactly a werewolf? Maybe he’s an incubus or some type of demon? That might explain why Peter’s child is a werecoyote, why his scratch creates a werejaguar and why his bite unlocks a banshee’s powers. It might also explain that very weird beta shift he has, the one that looks nothing like other werewolves.

Maybe Peter’s father is away doing some type of alpha task and his wife, Laurel, is fine with that. She’s a born wolf, used to the woods and fine with being alone with her two daughters. It’s nice and peaceful at least. Talia is 5 and is equally as comfortable being in the woods as she is in the family library. Miriam is 4 and a little more timid; born a human she relies on her sister’s hearing when they’re out in the preserve.

Laurel’s not scared when there’s a knock on the backdoor and she looks out the window and sees a man standing under the awning, trying to keep out of the rain. She knows from his scent he’s a supernatural, not a werewolf, but something.

He explains that he’s traveling and got caught in the storm and is it possible to wait for the weather to clear for a bit? He’ll be no problem and just stay outside, but wanted her to know so she wouldn’t be alarmed if she saw someone sitting under a tree on her property.

Laurel can’t explain why she agrees or why she suggests he rest in the storage building a few minutes from the house. It’s not a palace by any means, filled with some garden equipment and out of season sports items, but it’s clean and dry. There’s a couple of chairs in there and an old camping cot if he needs a nap.

Laurel also can’t explain why she doesn’t mention it to Francis when they talk in the evening and he confirms he’ll be gone an extra day. She doesn’t know why she lets the stranger stay there for three nights and why she visits him while her girls are playing in the house or taking a nap.

Maybe it’s because he’s as gentle as Francis is rough. He compliments her and admires her, for her beauty and her strength, telling her that she’s special. She feels hypnotized, but really she can’t make herself care. And when they make love with the storm wailing around them, she doesn’t feel guilty, not one bit.

 

Francis is surprised when a couple of months later, Laurel says she’s pregnant. He has his heir and a spare, and after 4 years he wasn’t expecting another child. But they celebrate and he thinks maybe he’ll finally get a boy. Of course Talia will always be in line to take over from him as the alpha, but still, it’ll be nice to have a boy in the house. A namesake, Peter Francis Hale.

 

Peter’s first years are uneventful and he basks in attention from his sisters and his mother. He’s totally a mama’s boy and that’s fine with Laurel. His father is strict with him, seemingly expecting more from him than he does from his older sisters. Peter knows Talia will be the alpha and he doesn’t mind; she’s smart and always has time to tell him stories about their history.

Sometimes he sees his mother look at him with a wistful smile on her face. And sometimes his father looks at him like he doesn’t know him at all. He does look different than his sisters, hair seeming fair compared to their dark brown-almost black locks. And of course his eyes are bright blue in a family of browns and hazels.

 

When he’s 10, right on schedule, he starts to show signs of being ready to shift. Talia tells him that it’s scary the first couple of times, but their mother will help him. 

The night of the full moon, the family gathers outside, stretching and getting ready to run. Miriam comes out as well; Talia and Peter always made sure to keep track of her and play with her in the moonlight.

Tonight, Peter stands by his mother and she holds his hands telling him to relax and let it happen. His eyes light up, bright and yellow and he drops his fangs and claws and…

“It hurts, Momma,” he says, resting his head against her leg, while she cards her hand through his hair, trying to keep her breath steady as she watches his face shift. A were certainly, but not the same as her girls or as their father.

“What’s wrong with him?” Francis asks her, stepping back, alarmed. “He’s not shifting right.”

“It’s his first time,” Laurel says, rubbing her boy’s shoulders. “Maybe he needs to practice more. He’ll get it.”

Francis looks at them, checking their scents. Laurel is serene as always and Peter’s heartbeat is steady, now that the shift is done. He’s never quite smelled like the other kids, but he always assumed that was the difference between a boy and a girl.

 

Peter practices shifting during the month, with Laurel and Talia both encouraging him. Talia knows he looks strange, but he’s her brother and so it must be okay. Even though there’s slightly too many, too large teeth. His brow looks different than her own or her father’s, but when the next full moon comes around, she’s anxious for their usual family celebration.

They’re still inside when the family shifts and Francis stares at his boy again and then looks at his wife. “Is there anything you want to tell me, Laurel?” he asks, voice quiet. What Laurel has always thought of as dangerously quiet.

“No? I don’t know what you mean, Francis,” she tells him and then turns to her children, saying, “are we ready to go out? Let’s see if we can catch something tonight.”

“A minute, Laurel, I’m not done,” her husband says, as he circles his wife and son. “My daughters look like you and like me. Talia has my nose, we’ve always said that. Miriam looks exactly like my mother did at her age, we’ve seen that in pictures.”

He squats down so he’s eye level with his son and says, “What exactly are you, boy? Whose child are you?”

Laurel pulls Peter back, pushing him behind her, hissing at her husband, “Leave the boy alone. He’s our son, and the boy you’ve wanted, Francis. I gave you everything you’ve wanted, always!”

The children gasp when Francis slaps Laurel’s face, hard enough that she stumbles back. Before anyone can say anything else, Peter jumps on him, scratching and biting as he screams, “Leave my mother alone!”

It’s a freak accident, the kind that almost never happens. Maybe it’s due to the surprise (or maybe it’s that something else) that Peter is able to knock his father back and it’s just dumb luck that he manages to slash his claws against Francis’ neck.

Peter shakes and his eyes become rimmed with red when his mother pushes him off his father’s body, slashing his throat again and yelling, “Me! Me! Give it to me, dammit, he’s too young!”

 

After a minute she stands up, and takes a breath, letting her eyes go from bright red back to their normal warm brown. She looks at her three children, huddled together, shaking and crying.

Laurel turns them so they’re looking away from body and gathers them in her arms, kissing each of them on the head. “Peter, go upstairs and wash up. Wash up carefully, okay, my love? Miriam, go with him, make sure he’s clean and help him get into new clothes. Take a bag up with you for what he’s wearing and bring it back down when you’re done.” She turns to her eldest and says, “Talia, go into the kitchen and get the cleaning things from under the sink counter – you know where they are.”

She stands and looks at her children, watching them wipe their eyes and turn back into the steady Hales she’s raised. “You are my angels and no one will ever touch us or hurt us or stop us. Go my little wolves, we have a lot to do.”


End file.
